Heart of the Jungle
by Miss Raye
Summary: in the 1930s, the deepest parts of the jungle are still being explored. Men search for wealth and adventure and sometimes they disappear or meet their ends in parts of the world where no one can find you. Elizabeth is looking for her childhood friend gone missing in the jungle. Intrepid explorer and all around gadabout, AJ Quartermaine, is the only man who can help her search.
1. Chapter 1

-AJ-

Alan Quartermaine II was a man used to getting everything he wanted, except for his father's approval, but then again, AJ Quartermaine wasn't into wild goose chases. He was, this hot summer evening, in search of a drink... more than one really.

The problem, he discovered as he walked into Coleman's bar, was that there wasn't an available seat anywhere.

Pushing through the throng he got up to the bar and slapped the rough-hewn board that served as a counter. "Coleman! Whiskey... just give me the bottle."

The bartender smiled behind his well-oiled mustache. "As you wish, AJ." He slapped the bottle on the board.

AJ took a deep swig of the burning alcohol and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What's going on here?"

Coleman sighed... the sound was an odd one coming from the hardened bartender. The man, throughout his years in the jungle and had seen everything and probably done it all as well. This time it was almost a wistful sound. "Her."

Rising up on the balls of his feet, AJ peered over the massive clot in the center of the room and saw the shapely brunette at the center of it. She was petite, wavy dark hair in contrast to skin so pale he doubted she ever set foot in the sunlight, and when she turned to chat up the rough-looking character beside her he saw her sapphire blue eyes and he felt a heat further down below his heartburn.

"A woman like that has no place in a bar like this... she'll get herself dead... or worse."

"Oh, I don't know," Coleman chatted back, "she seems like she can handle herself... and with all that sparkly stuff she's got with her someone will come to her rescue."

"Sparkly stuff?" Before Coleman could answer, he saw it for himself. A man lifted her hand to kiss the back of it and he saw the diamond bracelet that dangled from her wrist. Correction, he thought, bracelets with a capital S. "She's an idiot!"

The roar escaped him and the room fell silent as he was met with her cold hard stare.

- Elizabeth-

She watched the man that was walking up to her table and narrowed her gaze at him. He, she decided, was a pompous ass. It was plain to see in the swagger of his walk, the snap of his pale blue eyes, and the tone of his voice as he called her an idiot.

She had killed men for less than that.

Well, she corrected, men had been banished from the island for less than that, but she had no idea if Stefan had allowed them to live. She wouldn't bet money on it. Stefan Cassadine was a hard man.

As the man stopped right before her table she noted that none of the other men had stayed to talk to her. She counted that as marks against their character. They should have been able to stand up to him if they were going to take her through the jungle. They should have been able to... and yet they weren't.

"You, sir, are blocking my view."

"Honey, I am the view." He smiled at her, his eyes giving her a slow and deliberate once over, "You're not so bad either."

"I," she corrected, "am not impressed."

Scraping a chair backward away from the table, AJ planted himself in it and took a long drink from his bottle. "Look, I'm trying to save your life here." He set the bottle down and pointed a finger at her. "You're going about this all wrong."

"Going about 'what'?" She questioned. "I don't recall giving you leave to speak to me, nor did I invite you to sit."

"'Leave?' 'Invite?'" He chuckled. "Here in Porter Station, honey, I do what I want to regardless of what you 'let' me do." He smiled at her when she folded her arms over her chest. He couldn't help but admire the effect it had on the moderate décolletage of her dress. The woman was a beautiful as she was stubborn. "Why don't you tell me what you wanted with that bunch of riffraff and I can set you straight."

"I came here looking for a guide to take me into the jungle."

AJ pressed his lips together to keep from spouting an expletive.

"I'm looking for Nikolas Cassadine," she explained, "I've known him since we were children. He and his father came to the jungle looking to mine for precious gems. The last word we had two years ago was that Stavros, his father, had died and Nikolas was continuing on in the search."

She produced a worn piece of paper that had a stain on it that looked remarkably like dried blood, but AJ kept his mouth shut.

"His uncle, Stefan, would have come himself, but Nikolas' grandmother, Helena is on her deathbed and-"

"So he sent a woman into the jungle?" AJ swallowed another gulp of liquor and shook his head. "Go home, little girl." He shook his head. "And don't think of hiring one of those louts to take you... they'd take your money, take your body, and then they'd leave you to die in the jungle. Trust me," he sighed, "if he's been gone that long... there's a reason." He folded the letter and gave it back to her. When she took it from him he noticed that her hand was shaking. "Look," he lowered his voice and gave her a serious look, "the jungle kills... men who have grown up living here are killed by snakes and tigers and all manner of things every day. For you to go out there just to save an old friend? It's crazy!" He shook his head. "I'm not taking you," he raised his head and stared down everyone else in the room, "and neither are they... or I'll put a bullet in them myself!" He looked at her and saw the fragility behind her attitude, the beauty that was actually hidden behind her makeup, and the worry in her brilliant blue eyes.

The jungle, he knew, would kill everything good about her if he didn't make her leave.

Standing, he swiped the bottle up and took a liberal drink. "Just get on a boat and go back home."

He started to walk away but she grabbed his arm and spun him back around. "Wait... you don't understand. You have to help me." She bit her lip as she struggled to find the right words to get him to help... to get her into the jungle... she had to find the right words.

"Go home," he repeated, "live a nice long life... find someone to treat you like a princess and make you happy."

She seized on the idea in his words. "But that's why I have to find Nikolas," she insisted, "Prince Nikolas Mikhail Stavrosovich Cassadine... he's the man I'm going to marry."


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

-AJ-

Captain Ric Lansing leaned back in his chair when he saw AJ Quartermaine stagger into his office. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

AJ looked up at him. "Cat... funny... very very funny." AJ managed to maneuver himself into a chair before his legs gave out. "Did you find the tiger yet?"

Setting his pith helmet on the desk, the Captain let out a sigh and poured whiskey into glasses. "Rather, he found my men. Killed two before we could find them in beneath the heavy cover of leaves."

Nodding, AJ waited why Ric brought the glasses around and handed him one. Together they raised their glasses in a salute to the fallen soldiers.

"I'll write letters to their families in the morning," he sighed. "I just need to get some rest."

AJ downed the whiskey and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Your rest will have to wait for a bit." Setting his glass to the side he rubbed his hand over his face. "There's a woman in Porter Station."

"I know." The Captain's imperious attitude was firmly back in place. "And you're to stay far away from her, Quartermaine."

"Do you know why she's here, then?" His eyes watched the Captain carefully. They weren't friends, barely comrades at times, but surely Ric Lansing wasn't a complete idiot.

Ric waved a hand dismissively. "Looking for that fool Prince that come through awhile back."

AJ sat up in his chair. "I don't remember the man."

With another vague wave of his hand, the Captain mumbled something aloud. "You were off searching for that damned City of Gold."

"Oh, yes..." Satisfied that his own memory hadn't been wiped away by drink, AJ nodded. "Yes, I see." He looked back at the Captain. "Now that you're back, you're going to send her home, yes?"

Ric smiled at the scruffy adventurer. "Not quite yet, Quartermaine." He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a long satisfying sip. "I think I might enjoy the company of Miss Webber a while longer."

"Webber?" AJ pondered the name for a bit. "I never did get her name."

The smile that crossed the Captain's face was one not becoming of the uniform he wore. "Nothing new for you, eh, Quartermaine? I suspect half the village girls with blonde babes are others that spent the night with you and you didn't... get their names?"

AJ's expression hardened. "I don't dally with the village girls," he stood, straightened his clothes and gave the Captain one last warning look, "your soldiers though, they spend much of their time with the village girls and what do you do to stop them? Nothing." He straightened to his full height and narrowed his gaze. "You and your men are here to represent Queen and Country, sir. Perhaps you should keep that in mind."

"I think," the Captain shot back, "that you'd better keep your thoughts to yourself. After all, you're only here to... what is it you do again, Quartermaine?"

"I'm here," AJ clarified to keep stupid people from wandering off in the jungle and getting killed." He walked toward the door, sobered with his own anger. "Like you and your men... don't forget that when you're slinging arrows at me, Lansing."

-Nikolas-

He moved through the jungle with ease, the leathery slap of leaves sounded against his legs. A few feet away the tiger paced along beside him. The beast was an enormous animal, white when most others were orange, and the pace of the animal was shortened at times to match his own stride. They were both quiet. He would not talk and she made no sound. No growl or roar had come from her throat in days but it did nothing to bother him. He used the time to think.

When they neared the entrance to the cave, the tiger pushed her way through the foliage near the opening and found her own path into the cool recesses of the mountain leaving him alone for one last moment.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Rafe?" Nikolas turned to look at his young companion. Rafe had been a child when they'd found him in the village, begging for scraps and he'd been a child when they'd begun their journey into the jungle looking for the mines that were spoken of only in legends. They'd found him stowed away in one of their baskets and while Stavros had raged and threatened to whip the boy, Nikolas had intervened and earned himself a loyal friend.

Rafe had also proven himself, for the food that boy had left behind to secret his own body away in their luggage was easily replaced. Rafe had gone into the jungle and come back every day with fruits and roots that were not only edible but tasty.

Still, Stavros had hated the boy and was quick to strike at him for any perceived offense. That was why Rafe had been know to the part as 'Shadow' for that was exactly his identity when Nikolas was around. He was the Prince's shadow.

"I knew you would be hungry." He gestured to the woven basket perched on a large flat stone. "If you would prefer meat," he explained, "I will cook for you."

Nikolas could only smile at the serious expression on the younger man's face. "And you? Have you eaten?"

Rafe nodded. "While I waited for you to return."

There was anxiety in the young man's voice and Nikolas felt pity for him. "We are home safely, Rafe. There is no need to worry."

His eyes downcast, the young man answered with little more than a whisper of sound. "I heard the report of gunfire," he explained, "the crash of men and horses through the brush. I thought... I felt... fear."

Nikolas nodded, humbled by the boy's regard. "I only do what I feel is necessary. You do... understand, yes?"

"I believe you do what it right. What I do... is the same." Rafe bowed and excused himself, disappearing into the shadows of the cavern a moment later.

Left to his own devices, Nikolas found the customary cloth and hot water that Rafe had prepared for him. Pouring the water into the basin he cleaned his face and hands, he'd have to settle for a full wash later when his work was done. Setting the towel aside, he sat down in his chair and picked thoughtlessly at the fruit on the tray, popping pieces into his mouth as he wrote an account of the day's activities. He worked late into the night, shifting restlessly in his chair. When he finally laid his pen aside he reached out his hand and picked up a frame, the single ornament on his makeshift table.

The frame had long since lost its glass, cracked and destroyed during their journey through the jungle. There was a similar image in a locket that had been lost along the way, but this picture, kept in his saddle bag, had survived. The soft curve of a cheek, the watery eyes of sorrow that he could see as blue in his mind's eye, the wealth of riotous chocolate-colored curls. She must surely be married now... given over to some other man in his family line.

His grandmother had never truly shown any willingness to honor the heart of the agreement that Stavros had made with Jeffrey Webber... she had tasked her mind to discover a way around the betrothal between Elizabeth and himself... including the demand that unless they were physically in the same location before her twenty-first birthday, she was free to marry Elizabeth to whatever Cassadine male was available.

Now, a few months shy of her twenty-first birthday, there was no chance that he'd be able to leave the jungle and venture home in time. He had resigned himself to the tragedy and instead of raging against the injustice, he had begun to pray for her... that whomever Helena saw fit to marry her in his stead... would treat her well.

Tracing his finger along the curve of her hair. "Elizabeth... where ever you are in the world... I wish only the best for you." There were many more things unsaid... but he would not venture to give them voice while there was no hope for the real woman to hear them.

- Elizabeth -

Before she could open the door to her hut, the door swung open and revealed the smiling face of her dearest companion. "Miss Elizabeth, you are home."

Unable to resist the urge, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Dear Alfred," she struggled to undo the buttons at her wrists, "I suppose after knowing me for nearly my entire life, there is no way to make you agree to call me 'just' Elizabeth."

He closed the door and crossed to her, moving aside her hand to undo the button for her. "Perhaps, Miss, you should have kept the lady's maid that Master Cassadine sent with us."

"Alfred, you know I couldn't." Once the button was released, Elizabeth sighed and removed the coat, setting it aside near her wardrobe. "She was such a sweetheart, but she missed her family so much. I couldn't keep her here."

Nodding at the logic, he ventured to interject an idea. "Perhaps one of the village girls might enjoy the post?"

Elizabeth thought through his suggestion as she moved toward the chaise lounge near the window. The punkahwallah who controlled the fan stood and tugged on the rope, quickly settling into the right rhythm to cool the room. Giving the boy a smile she leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

"I trust the search went well?"

Elizabeth struggled to keep her tone pleasant. The effects of the last week and a half had worn heavily on her. "No, Alfred, I'm still searching for a man to take us into the jungle. I'm beginning to think that horrible man is at fault. Up until that horrible scene in the bar the men were showing interest in taking us on the journey." She laid the back of her hand on his forehead. "I have half a mind to find him and tell him that I think he's just a big bully and cut him down to size."

There was a long moment of silence and Elizabeth felt her unease grow.

"Alfred?"

The older man cleared his throat. "We have a guest, Miss."

Turning her head to the side, her hand sliding down the column of her throat in reaction to the humid cloying heat, Elizabeth opened her eyes to see the tall disheveled form of Alan James Quartermaine, Jr. standing at the bottom of their stairs. "Don't show him in, Alfred, he won't be staying long."

Standing, she set her shoulders back as she set her resolve.


End file.
